


Game of Survival

by Promise



Series: Game of Survival [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3502643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Promise/pseuds/Promise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which four friends find themselves struggling with the weight of a potentially brilliant future for one of them in exchange for everything else. So begins the tale of ruination, for one, for all, as corruption brings down the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Game of Survival

    It was a tale told by even the straightest politicians – those who continually opposed the use and even the blatant existence of magic. It was a tale told by the first dual Kings – the First Kings of Blood and Snow. It was a tale which had threads of desperation woven into it – desperation for the world to have even the slightest chance of salvation. A tale of desperation, magic, all about the Musician; a deity-like figure that could save time and reality from ever falling out of sync with each other using her melody.

    It was a tale.

     A tale that begins with a ‘Once upon a time…’

     … in a world of misery, pain and sorrow, sin ran rampant in its alleys, in its districts. The capital was one of radiance, beauty, and nothing suggested in the least the horrifying treachery that constant occur in the other cities. Its citizens wear perfect little smiles, with perfect abilities, with great knowledge to go along with their perfect identities.

     Perfect perfection. Something every citizen wished they have.

     Under their perfect masks – the only thing almost never broken among them – they hide their insecurities, their screams and cries for help, instead choosing to indulge themselves in their silly fake reality.

      It was a world in which the dual Kings then-currently in power had given up and lost themselves in their own greed and opulence.

      A world not capable of salvation for anyone. A world not worthy of salvation by anyone.

      It was said, in this dark point in history, when the gears of time and reality had rusted, grating against each other, the Musician would step forth with her broken soul, her broken heart, and with her broken hands, create a Melody that would cleanse the breaking gears and restore them to their beautiful form. Because only something broken could heal something breaking.

      The elders and Oracles had all warned of this incoming catastrophe, that they need to find the Musician fast before the prophecy will eventually die without ever being fulfilled. The scramble for their messiah thus began – and no expense was spared. The people’s smiles vanished, the bright fields of flowers were reduced to being mere memories, and throughout this, the dual Kings in power kept hoping against fate – hope that their search would bring forth fruitful results.

      But to no avail.

      The Musician was surely hiding, the people gossiped. Hiding from what? Why, the corruption of this terrible world of course! From every person’s mouth came these gut-shredding words that spelled out the foregone conclusion of their precious realm’s inevitable destruction.

      It was a tale.

      It was a tale that reduced the once-proud nation of Carnalis to fake perfection, the poorest cities filled with rubbish and contamination that their richer neighbours dumped upon them. Afraid of being thrown out, afraid of being treated as abnormal and forcibly relocated to the poor regions, the remaining persons plastered perfect smiles on perfect faces – all girls obeyed their mothers with their heads down, boys practiced only masculine sports and activities even though the children’s heart yearned for something else. The people echo another’s words, never making the decisions they truly want – only what will benefit them.

       It was a tale. A tale that spurred on Carnalis’s own ruin.


End file.
